


Read Between The Lines

by hailxcas (castiellovesthewinchesters)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Cute, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Drabble, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:56:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8384533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiellovesthewinchesters/pseuds/hailxcas
Summary: Dean meets Castiel in his History class and spends most of his time distracted by the back of Cas' head than focusing on the lectures. Occasionally, he catches himself reading Castiel's notes on his laptop. That is, until Castiel catches him reading them. And the rest is...history.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! 
> 
> So my beta, Katie, and I were talking yesterday and we stumbled across a post with a little college au destiel drabble, so I sort of expanded on it! I am not sure who the original poster/author is, as I found it on instagram, but I hope they don't mind I did this! :) All original credit goes to them!! 
> 
> And fair warning, the grammar in this is probably shit. I wrote it in like an hour and I did _some_ editing, but probably not the greatest. I'm drowning in uni assignments at the moment but I just needed a break, so I wrote this!  
>  I hope you like it???? :)

Dean Winchester walked into his first lecture of his Intro to History class. He didn’t want to take the damn thing, but it was mandatory as a pre-requisite course. He slouched in his seat, about a middle of the way down the auditorium and waited. He absentmindedly tapped his pen against the folding desk and looked around the bleak room. 

It was old, he could tell. Definitely not part of the newer section of the university campus. It smelled weird too. Musty—like an old cellar. He wrinkled his nose at the thought and continued tapping his pen.

He glanced over when another student walked through the door, hair disheveled. He walked up the deep stairs, and turned into the row ahead of Dean. He looked at Dean before he sat down in front of him, giving him a soft smile. Dean wasn’t sure if he smiled back because all he could do was try not to shiver from the piercing blue eyes that had met his. 

“Good morning everyone,” a stout lady appeared in the room and placed her briefcase on the desk. “My name is Dr. Ellen Harvelle. I will be your professor for the semester unless otherwise posted.”

She waited as a few more students bustled in and sat down.

“If you would all log on and open the course outline on your devices, we’ll go through it as quickly as possible before starting today’s lesson.”

Dean pulled out his phone and logged into his school account. He looked up to see the guy in front of him logging in on his computer. He leaned forward and tried to read the name.

_Castiel Novak._

Castiel turned his head and Dean pulled himself backwards, bringing his attention back to his phone and ignoring Castiel’s stare. 

The rest of the class was mostly Dean trying not to get too distracted by the colour of the Castiel’s hair, and the way it curled behind his ears. There was a spot where a few strands stuck straight up. Dean bet that they would probably never stay down, and he smiled at how cute it made Castiel looked. 

By the end of the class, Dean hadn’t written a single note down. The end of his pen was chewed, and his paper only had the date and the title of the lesson. It was fine though, Dean thought. Everyone can get through without having to write anything down, right?

When he stood up and grabbed his jacket, he noticed the plethora of notes Castiel had on his laptop, and panic surged through Dean. _Shit_. He didn’t want to be _that_ guy—you know, the one that always asks for notes because he never gets them done— _that_ guy. He figured he could muster up something from the textbook, and then ask Castiel to compare? 

Dean scoffed at himself. _Unlikely, Winchester._

He was never good at the whole “school thing” anyways. What made him think he could start now?

***

History was every Tuesday and Thursday, so Dean didn’t get a chance to see Castiel on Wednesday, which bummed him out a little bit. He sat in roughly the same spot as the last class, hoping that Castiel will sit in the same spot as well.

He was happy to see that he did. 

This time, Dean paid more attention to what Castiel was writing in his notes than what Professor Harvelle was saying. It wasn’t until Castiel wrote something that made Dean’s stomach turn: 

_I know you’re reading this._

Dean practically jumped back into his seat, knocking his backpack over and causing a scene. He noticed Castiel shaking with laughter, which only made his face grow hotter. 

“Everything alright back there?” Professor Harvelle asked.

“Yeah—yep. It’s fine,” Dean called back.

He didn’t bother chancing a look again.

***

When he walked into the following Tuesday’s lecture, Castiel was already sitting in his seat. Dean took the seat behind him and didn’t bother saying anything—not that he’d said anything to Castiel before, but now it was just awkward.

“Alright, I’ve got the first assignment here for you today,” Professor Harvelle spoke, handing it to students who took one, and passed them back.

“Assignments? Already?” someone complained. 

“This is university, we don’t start off slow,” she replied. 

Students were passing back several pieces of paper, and Dean nervously waited for his.

He nearly choked on his stomach when Castiel turned to hand him the assignment, and their eyes met as Castiel’s finger brushed against Dean’s while the papers slid through. Dean gave a timid smile in thanks and handed back the assignment after taking one for himself.

“This one isn’t weighted much, as it’s the first assignment,” Professor Harvelle continued. “And I’ve decided to put you all into pairs. There may be one group of three just by the odd number in the class, but I’ve got a list that I’ll go over in a minute.”

“Ugh, partners,” Dean muttered to himself, dragging a hand over his face. 

 

It was to Dean’s horror that he be placed with Castiel Novak, who turned and gave him a cheeky smile after their names were called.

“Looks like we’re partners,” Dean said with a light laugh.

“Looks like,” Castiel replied, and Dean was astounded by the deep voice that came out of that mouth. 

“Yeah, so um—” Dean didn't really know why he opened his mouth, because he didn’t know what he wanted to say. 

“Meet in the library tomorrow?” Castiel shoved his laptop into his carrier bag and pulled the strap over across his chest. 

“It’s Wednesday tomorrow,” Dean replied.

“That’s usually the day that comes after Tuesday, yes. Will that be a problem?”

“What? No! No, it’s fine. I just—I wasn’t sure if it would work for you, that’s all.” Dean scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Alright then,” Castiel said, taking a step. “Well, does 1:00 pm work?”

Dean followed, on the row above him, walking the same pace until they reached the stairs.

“Yeah, 1:00 pm is fine,” he nodded.

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

And with that, Castiel took the stairs down and left the classroom.

***

Dean arrived at the library the next day 20 minutes early—mostly because he was nervous and didn’t want to get lost trying to find where the library was. There were so many buildings on campus, it was easy to get lost.

Castiel showed up a few minutes before 1:00, giving Dean a small wave as he walked over, setting his bag on the desk. 

“I think if we work hard enough this afternoon, we can get it done in a few hours,” Castiel said as he sat down. 

“Okay,” Dean agreed, although he wasn’t even sure what the assignment was on, let alone how they were going to get it done in a few _hours._

 

Castiel had to explain the assignment to him _twice_ before Dean understood what they had to do: make a political poster using themes of a specific historical era(s), while addressing contemporary issues of today. Sounds easy, right?

Needless to say, Castiel did most of the work. But they got it done in under four hours, which was awesome, in Dean’s opinion. They parted ways, and Dean went home trying not to think of the way Castiel’s eyes squinted and his tongue flicked out when he was frustrated.

 

The next morning in class, Dean and Castiel sat in their usual seats, only this time—Castiel turned to say hello to him.

“Hey,” Dean replied. Castiel gave him a smile and turned to settle himself down in his seat.

Once again, Dean was having trouble focusing on the lecture, and was more focused on how Castiel’s shirt was exposing the tanned skin of his collar, more skin than Dean had seen of him in the last couple classes. 

Was it getting hot in here?

Dean scratched at his neck, his collar suddenly becoming itchy. 

He leaned forward to get himself more comfortable and Castiel quickly glanced back at him, then returned to his laptop where he was furiously typing away. 

“Man you type fast. No wonder you have like, every word she says,” Dean whispered over Castiel’s shoulder. 

_You should try some time. You might actually get notes written down._

Dean snickered.

“Ah you see, I like this better. I don’t have to write anything, and I can just watch you.” Dean froze. “I—I mean, you know. Watch you type. _Words_. Watch you type words—notes. You know.”

He saw Castiel’s shoulders shake slightly with laughter. 

_You’re kind of an idiot, you know?_

“Yeah. I know,” Dean muttered.

_Are you busy tomorrow?_

Dean had to readjust his eyes to focus clearly. 

“Busy? No. I don’t think so. Why?”

_Would you want to go out?_

Dean froze again, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. Did Castiel just ask him out? On a date?

_It’s okay, never mind._

“No no!” Dean whispered a little loudly for being discrete. “I would.”

Castiel turned around to face him, smile creeping up, and his blue eyes piercing. 

“Really?” 

“Mr. Winchester and Mr. Novak, is there something more important than this lesson that you two would be so bold as to disrupt my class?” Professor Harvelle called. 

Dean sank into his seat. 

“No ma’am,” Castiel replied for him, turning himself back around. 

Dean waited until Professor Harvelle continued the lesson to lean himself closer to see Castiel had typed his number at the bottom of the page.  
Dean pulled out his phone and texted him.

_Pick you up at 8:00?_

He smiled like an idiot when the reply came.

_Who said you were driving?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Please feel free to share! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr, instagram, & twitter @hailxcas 
> 
> And for those who have read Everything We Need, I am working on the second part right now! Will hopefully have a few chapters uploaded in the next few weeks! 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Meg <3


End file.
